


The Kings and the Unexpected Letter

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [26]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Set in Erebor and Ered Luin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is the mysterious letter that Dis is trying so hard to write and why does she think it will upset her brother?  Thorin and Thranduil set out on a madcap dash across Middle-earth to confront her in Ered Luin.  Will it all end in tears or will it be a happy ever after?</p><p>Part of my Two Kings series but can be read as a stand-alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings and the Unexpected Letter

 

 

.o00o.

 

The Kings and the Unexpected Letter

 

Pt 1

 

_“A letter is an unannounced visit, the agent of rude surprises.”_

 

Dis was finding this a very difficult letter to write.  She stared at her blank sheet of parchment and sucked the end of her quill.  A comforting arm went around her shoulder and a warm, gentle voice said: “Under the circumstances, I don’t see how he can object.”

 

Dis grimaced.  “Then I don’t think you know my brother very well,” she replied.

 

Then she sighed, gritted her teeth and finally put pen to paper.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin had not done his duty.  The previous night, he had cast a pile of newly arrived letters upon the night stand and had intended to read them just before he went to sleep.  Such missals tended to be extremely boring and helped him to nod off.  And he had nothing better to do with his time until Thranduil arrived from Mirkwood the following day.

 

But, just as he got comfortable and, deciding that he couldn’t put off the evil day any longer, had reached for the first letter, Thranduil swept laughing into the room.  His elven cloak was sodden and his hair was wet.  “Just look what I put myself through in order to climb into bed with you a day early,” he said with a grin.  And he had cast off his wet cloak and clothing and had pulled the dwarf into his arms.  And that was the end of the letter-reading.

 

The next morning, in a state of exhaustion, they had both fallen into the bathing pool for a nice long soak.  Then they had gently towelled each other dry, kissing all the best bits of each other’s bodies as they went, and had finally flopped back upon the bed again.

 

“Come on,” whispered Thranduil, nibbling at Thorin’s ear.  “I’m game.”

 

But the dwarven king propped himself up on his pillows.  “I really must read these letters,” he said.

 

The elf tutted and buried his face between Thorin’s thighs.  “Well, open your legs for me,” he said.  “I’ll provide you with a bit of distraction while you do the boring stuff.”  And the dwarf, already unsealing the first letter, absent-mindedly let his legs fall open at his lover’s command.

 

The elven king was rather fond of sucking on Thorin’s exhausted cock.  In its soft, curled up state, it reminded him of a sweet, sleepy little animal, tucked up in its nest.  And he proceeded to do his best to waken it from its slumbers.  First, he gave it a good suck, then a lot of fancy licking with his clever tongue and, when this didn’t work, he gave Thorin’s balls a good squeeze and finally, in exasperation, when the dwarf still remained absorbed in his first letter, he shoved two fingers up his backside.  The member hardened a little and Thranduil decided that he was making some progress.  So, for his last trick, he began to tug on it with his sharp, white teeth, applying just enough pressure to cause borderline pain.

 

The dwarf yelped and brought a knee up sharply, nearly giving the elf a black eye.  Surely he hadn’t hurt him that much?  “I don’t believe this,” he yelled, waving the parchment around.  “I really don’t believe this!”

 

“Well,” grumbled Thranduil, rubbing a sore eye, “if you were after instant castration, that was the right way to go about things.”  But, Thorin had climbed from the bed and was pacing the floor, reading and re-reading the letter.

 

“Unbelievable!” he yelled.  And then he began to pull on his clothes.  “I’ve got to get to Ered Luin,” he exclaimed.  “Straight away.”

 

There was something panicky about his actions and Thranduil also leaped from the bed and stopped him whilst he was trying to pull on a desperate boot.

 

“Quietly, now,” he said, holding Thorin to his breast.  “Just tell me what this is all about.”  The dwarf’s anxiety attack subsided and the elven king sat him gently down on the edge of the bed.  “Who’s the letter from?” he asked.  “And what does it say?”

 

“It’s from Dis,” was the reply.

 

The elf looked worried.  “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

 

“Of course there’s something wrong,” shouted Thorin once more.  “She’s getting married!”

 

“But – but – isn’t that a good thing?” was the stuttered response.  “Don’t you feel guilty about breaking up her and Dwalin?  And isn’t it marvellous that she’s found someone else?”

 

“No,” grunted the dwarven king.  “Not when that someone else is DAMARIL!”  And he almost spat out the name.

 

“DAMARIL!” exclaimed Thranduil, also speaking in capitals.  “I don’t believe it!”

 

Thorin gave him a speaking look.

 

.o00o.

 

Damaril the elf lord had left Mirkwood to go on his travels 6 months previously:  he had felt obliged to make his exit after developing feelings for Thorin.  He was very well-liked and Thorin considered him a friend, even after his revelation that he was sexually attracted to the dwarf.   A good and kind-hearted person, he had thought it best to visit all the elven courts and strongholds of Middle-earth in an effort to find someone he could love as much as Thorin and Thranduil loved each other.  The dwarven king had given him an arm ring for Dis should he, by any chance, happen to visit Ered Luin.

 

And visit Ered Luin he had obviously done.

 

So, what was the problem?  Thranduil and Thorin understood each other straight away.

 

“It’s like a rerun of that time when she wanted to marry Dwalin,” Thorin sighed, his head sinking into his hands.  Then, Dwalin had been attracted to Dis because she reminded him so much of Thorin.  He liked her, he was fond of her, but he didn’t love her: all his love was reserved for Thorin and Dis was just a substitute.  And Thorin and Balin were concerned that one day she would find out at a very intimate moment, perhaps, as he called out Thorin’s name right in the act, and her sense of self-worth would be shattered.  The king and his councillor had worked very hard on the couple to persuade them that a marriage just wouldn’t work – and then both had felt very guilty afterwards.

 

“And now the very same thing is happening again,” Thranduil muttered with a grimace.  “Damaril was attracted to you and now he’s attracted to Dis because she looks like you.”

 

“I need to go to Ered Luin,” said Thorin.  “I need to see for myself what’s going on.  And if I don’t like what _is_ going on, then I shall forbid their marriage.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” the elf replied.  “It shouldn’t take long to set up our heirs in our stead for a few months.  You’ll need someone to keep you company; and, besides,” he added with a grin, “I quite fancy all that camping – all that swimming in lakes and rivers with no clothes on – all that nice, hard ground and all those trees giving us good support for a screw.”

 

“Is that all you ever think about?” asked Thorin with a sigh.

 

“Well, yes, actually,” laughed the elven king.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

_“Every last bit of the body has its secret, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it.”_

 

They stopped at the palace of Mirkwood on their way, there to inform Legolas of their intentions and to select the fleetest elven horses from the stable together with a fast, powerful pack horse.  “We’ll make much better time than you did when you travelled here from Bag End on foot,” said the elven king.

 

“Especially,” commented Thorin, “since I shan’t be forced to linger in your dungeons.”

 

Thranduil rolled his eyes.  Would Thorin never let him forget?  But, it was true that the road was a lot safer: no trolls, wargs or orcs, for instance.  And this time, it was summer, and they would not be forced to cross the mountains via the goblin tunnels.  But Ered Luin, the dwarven settlement established by Thorin in the Blue Mountains after Smaug had driven them out from Erebor all those years ago, was still a fair ride from Mirkwood.

 

However, their trip was just as much fun as Thranduil hoped it would be.  He knew that Thorin was anxious, but he did his best to take the dwarf’s mind off things.  And ‘taking his mind off things’ involved an awful lot of sex, he was very glad to say.

 

They made good time along the Mirkwood elf road, no longer harassed by giant spiders.  And, that night, Thorin lay in his lover’s arms and worried about Dis.  “What on earth is Damaril up to?” he asked.  “Did he go there intentionally?  Is asking Dis to marry him all part of a plan to hurt me as much as I have hurt him?  Or was he just delivering that arm ring to my sister as a kindly gesture because I asked it?  And, when he saw Dis, did he then think she was the next best thing after me – that she would somehow do?  Or does he really love her?”

 

“We won’t know that until we see them,” soothed Thranduil, gently playing with the dwarven king’s member.

 

Thorin didn’t seem to notice the fondling but continued: “You know, he might have a thing about dwarves, some horrible perversion.  That would be disgusting.”

 

“I have a thing about dwarves,” murmured Thranduil in his ear.  “Well, one dwarf in particular.” And he began to pump a bit harder so that Thorin rose to the occasion.

 

“And, even if an affection has really developed between them,” the dwarf continued, “they really don’t know what they’re letting themselves in for, especially in Ered Luin where the dwarves are not as sophisticated or as accepting of differences as we are in Erebor.”

 

“Oh, I’m inclined to agree about the differences,” said Thranduil huskily, rolling Thorin gently on his back.  “There are some very _big_ differences.” And he gradually edged his way on top of the dwarf and positioned the king’s very large cock at his entrance.

 

“There’s bound to be trouble, both from the dwarven settlement and from the elves of the Grey Havens.  They might even have to move out of the area,” Thorin said worriedly.

 

“Oh, yes.  Terrible,” murmured the elven king, trying to hold back a groan as he pushed himself down onto Thorin’s delightful prick.  What would he do without it?

 

“And then they might move to Erebor!  _Not_ a good idea, especially if Damaril still has feelings for me.”

 

“I agree, I agree,” gasped Thranduil, no longer able to keep his groans to himself.  “Harder, Thorin, harder!  A lot harder!”

 

“What?  Oh, yes.  Sorry, my love.”  And Thorin began to thrust with enthusiasm into the elf and was soon lost in the compelling rhythm.

 

Thranduil clenched the dwarven king’s prick tightly in a muscular hold and Thorin reached out to squeeze and fondle the elf’s own not inconsiderable length.  It was the dwarf who came first as Thranduil held back in order to experience every last possible sensation.  He felt Thorin gush into him – so enjoyable, so satisfying, so wet and warm – and he wriggled and squirmed until he finally found his release all over Thorin’s hand.  He knew how particular the dwarf was and, with a certain amount of resignation, he passed the towel and collapsed down by his side.  Once, just once, he would love him to smear the cum all over his body – and do it spontaneously without a prompt.

 

Thorin knew what Thranduil was thinking as he wiped his fingers meticulously.  “Erm, shall I wipe you?” he asked politely, just in case.

 

But the reply was as expected.  “No, I prefer to feel you trickle down my thighs.  It almost makes me come again.”

 

 _It does_ , he wondered?  But, then he settled the elf comfortably in the crook of his arm.  “Do you think that Dis and Damaril have had a screw yet, or do you think they’re saving themselves?”

 

“Saving themselves for what?” snorted the elf sleepily.  “Old age?

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

_“When you walk in the mountains or swim in the sea, you set yourself free.”_

 

They stopped briefly at Beorn’s house.  “He’s a strange being,” said Thorin, “and I don’t feel like staying overnight.  It was very disturbing the last time we did it.  But, he saved my life and I owe him everything.”

 

He had brought a casket full of precious and finely wrought articles with him as a gift.  Beorn seemed pleased but it was difficult to tell because he only grunted and nodded before accepting the casket and tucking it away.  All three talked in rather a desultory manner about current politics and then the dwarf and the elf took their leave and pressed on.

 

A few days later, they came over the rise of a hill and Thorin pointed and crowed with glee.  “Look, there’s the lake I was telling you about!”

 

In the valley below lay a small but attractive lake.  “My companions and I were so glad to find this after escaping from the goblin tunnels and being rescued from those burning trees by the eagles.  We were really filthy and we spent a very good time here.”

 

They ambled down the hill with their horses in tow and with Thorin pointing out the main features of the bathing area.  “Look,” he said, gesturing, “that’s where a stream comes into the lake: it’s a bit chilly over there.  But, if you look at the far side, there’s a sort of sheltered cove where the water’s a lot warmer and it’s chest high, like a deep bath.  That was the favoured part.”  So, that’s where they went.

 

Laughing with pleasure at some good memories, Thorin quickly stripped off all his clothes and dived into the water.  Thranduil, pleased to see his lover happy at last, stripped off too and soon followed.  The dwarven king surfaced and flung back his wet hair, spraying diamond droplets in the sun.  He grinned at his lover who had surfaced a short distance away and then disappeared below the water line again.  When he didn’t reappear, the elf felt suddenly anxious.

 

“Thorin!” he yelled, looking around the smooth, untroubled lake.  And then he felt a light flutter against his legs and, peering down through the clear water, he could see the dark tendrils of the dwarf’s hair floating just beneath the surface…….And then a mouth sucked at his genitals.  The sensation was extraordinary and the elven king gasped and laughed at the same time, wondering how long Thorin could keep underwater before he had to come up for air.  But the dwarf’s great chest and powerful lungs kept him under for a surprisingly long time and Thranduil began to squirm at the level of his arousal.  He had got to the point where he couldn’t stave off an orgasm for much longer when Thorin suddenly bobbed to the surface like a cork, taking in huge lungfuls of air.  “You whore!” the elf exclaimed, pulling the dwarven king tightly against his chest.  And then he clasped his buttocks and, half-lifting him out of the lake, settled him back down upon his swollen member.  Buoyed up by the water, Thorin wrapped his legs around his waist and, closing his eyes, succumbed to the elf’s thrusting.

 

It was all so much fun that they both came very quickly and then they lay down naked in the sun to dry.  “Lovely spot,” sighed the elf.  “We must linger here again on our return journey.

 

.o00o.

 

When they reached the Misty Mountains, Thranduil commented on the fact that that they weren’t exactly misty.  In fact, the weather was so glorious that the journey across them was a real pleasure.  At the summit, they looked eastwards towards Erebor and westwards towards the realm of Elrond and to the Blue Mountains of Ered Luin, rising in the far distance.

 

Thorin hadn’t seen Elrond since he had passed through rather grumpily several years earlier.  The elf had interpreted his map and he should have been grateful but he wasn’t.  Now, under different circumstances, they greeted each other warmly.

 

The two kings both passed a pleasant night there – in a decent bed – and then they made ready to move onwards.  But, not before Thorin had unburdened himself to the wise elf lord.  Elrond raised an elegant eyebrow when he heard that yet another elf had apparently fallen for one of the house of Durin.   “But, don’t pass judgement, Thorin, until you have seen the situation for yourself,” he said.

 

They headed out towards Hobbiton and a delighted Bilbo clasped Thorin in his arms, giving him a big, wet kiss, whilst Thranduil glowered on the side lines.  The little hobbit fussed around them all evening, cooking up a storm and trying to make them as comfortable as possible.  The elf noticed how much Bilbo seemed to touch the dwarf, patting and squeezing his knee, running a finger through his hair, cupping his face in his hand and smiling at him fit to burst.  “I miss you so much, Thorin,” he said, stroking his thigh YET AGAIN.  Thranduil remembered that time when his lover had revealed to him how the hobbit had tried to slip into his bedroll one night on the journey from Bag End and how Thorin had been forced to explain to him that he wasn’t interested.  Obviously the message hadn’t been understood. 

 

“We won’t stay here too long,” said the dwarf as they squashed into their little hobbit-y bed.

 

“I have no desire,” said the elven king snottily, “to spend any more time with that little rabbit of a creature than I really have to.”  And so, they didn’t.

 

Thus it was that, within only a month of them setting out from Erebor, they finally came within sight of Ered Luin.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

_“Coming back is the thing that enables you to see how all the dots in your life are connected.”_

 

Thorin always spoke modestly of Ered Luin but he was secretly and quietly proud of what he had achieved there.  They had arrived, a rag-tag mob, escaping from the depredations of Smaug, with no more than their skills and what they carried.  But the dwarven prince had set aside his pride and had laboured in the forges of men, until at last his people were established and he had created a comfortable life for them in the Blue Mountains.

 

The settlement lay stretched out before them: a small town of well-built stone houses set hard against a great cave complex whose imposing entrance pierced the side of a mountain.  It was nowhere near as grand as Erebor but it was still remarkable.

 

“What a place you have managed to build here in so short a time!” exclaimed Thranduil.  “I was expecting a conglomeration of wooden huts.”  And he was moved as he thought of what his lover had suffered; and a wave of guilt washed over him as he remembered how he had left him to his fate all those years ago.

 

Thorin gave a pleased smile into his beard.

 

Dis and various members of her dwarven council came out to greet them; and, in her shadow, lurked Damaril – looking very uncomfortable, Thorin thought.  He and Thranduil dismounted and he clasped her in his arms.  “I expected you to come, brother,” she grimaced.  Thorin hardly recognised his sister: she looked beautiful and was absolutely glowing; her cobalt blue eyes sparkled and her black curls fell in a glossy mass about her shoulders.

 

Thranduil greeted Dis warmly too and both kings clasped Damaril by the arm: it did no good to show any discord in public at this time. 

 

And then Thorin was surrounded by a friendly mob of his own people who were thrilled to have him amongst them again.  They cast curious glances at the elven king, although many looks were approving because they had heard of his skills in battle and how he had tried to guard Thorin’s back at the Battle of the Five Armies and had nursed him back to health after the serious injuries he had sustained there.  Their king may have married an elf but he had such honour amongst his own people that anything that Thorin did was fine by them.

 

Then the two were whisked away to a fine room within the mountain where they dressed and went down to dine.  The banquet prepared for them was a long and drunken one and Thorin had no opportunity to speak to Damaril or Dis in private.  But, as the feast began to break up and people went their separate ways, Thorin grasped Damaril by the wrist and whispered: “I need to speak with you.”

 

Damaril’s gaze searched the room for Dis and, finding her, he gave her a meaningful look.  Then he said quietly to Thorin: “Come with me.”

 

They retired to a small council room and the beautiful, dark-haired elf lord said pointedly: “Ask me anything.”

 

Thorin’s fists opened and closed as he considered what to say.  Finally, he muttered: “I need to know if you still have feelings for me.”

 

Damaril considered this for a long time, head bowed.  Then, lifting his head and looking the king in the eye, he asked: “Do you want an honest answer or a tactful one?”

 

Thorin gave a short laugh: “A bit of both would be useful,” he said.

 

The elf gestured almost helplessly with his hands.  “Well, if you were to invite me to your bed this very minute, I would be tempted to take you up on the offer and fuck you until your teeth rattled.”  Thorin flinched.

 

“But, for one and the same reason, you won’t offer and I wouldn’t give in to temptation.”

 

“What reason?” asked the dwarf quietly.

 

“Because we both love our partners.”  It was what Thorin needed to hear.

 

The elf lord sighed.  “Yes, I still find you sexually attractive – I can smell you from here and you have a disturbing effect on my senses – and when I came to Ered Luin and met Dis, I was stunned at how physically alike the two of you are and I was drawn to her for that reason.”  He sat down in a chair and thought how best to express the next bit.  His happiness and that of Dis hung on a few sentences.  “But, the thing about you, Thorin, is that I don’t _know_ you: we only associated for a couple of days and my feelings for you are pure, animal lust.  How can I love someone whom I don’t know?  In contrast, I have been with Dis for five months now: I have spent most of my days with her and, just recently, all of my nights too.  I know her, I love her and I want to spend the rest of her short, mortal life by her side.  I have found the one whom I shall love only once and I shall stay here in Ered Luin and create a life for the both of us.”

 

He fell silent and waited for Thorin to speak his doom.

 

Dis had slipped into the room as Damaril was speaking and had stood listening in the shadows.  Her lover had expressed the situation far better than she ever could – she would have argued fiercely and bad-temperedly with her brother given half a chance.  Now, she waited too.

 

Thorin saw her and, gesturing her to his side, put an arm around her.  “How can I say ‘no’ when I have married an elf myself?” he said sadly.  “But, this I understand: you have chosen a very hard road and I would that I could save you from it.”

 

“And, do you regret the hard road,” asked his sister with a gentle smile.

 

“Not one moment of it,” he replied.  And he kissed her on the forehead.

 

.o00o.

 

They married very quietly with just a few people in the room.  The other dwarves understood their desire for privacy, but, when the newly-weds came downstairs to dine that night, their people came forward and presented them with little gifts that they had been making in their workshops in expectation of the event.  The pair were very touched and Thorin began to wonder if Dis and Damaril would not have such a hard road after all.

 

There had been plenty of celebratory drinking after that and it was a long time before anyone went to bed.

 

Finally……finally…….Thorin and Thranduil closed their bedroom door on all the merrymaking and climbed between the sheets.

 

The dwarven king took the elven king in his arms and whispered: “Fuck me until my teeth rattle, Thranduil.”  Laughing with delight, Thranduil yielded to his wishes.  Later, as the sun rose, the dwarf attempted to outdo the elf and Thranduil came violently into Thorin’s hand. 

 

And then, without any prompt, the dwarf rubbed the cum all over the elf’s body.  Thranduil sighed ecstatically.  “I shall come again, if you’re not careful,” he moaned.

 

“Come any time, my love, and I shall be ready for you,” murmured Thorin and then he gathered the elf to him in a loving embrace and they fell asleep once more in one another’s arms.

 

.o00o.

 

_Hope you’re all glad for Dis and Damaril, two nice people who deserve each other.  Tolkien tells us nothing about the mother of Fili and Kili but she obviously suffered and I wanted to give her a happy ending.  My invented character, Damaril, is also someone who needed to find someone to love.  You don’t find their relationship too unlikely, do you?_

_Next week, the two kings have to get back to Erebor – and it’s quite a treacherous journey._

_If you have only read this story, then you might want to read the previous one, The Kings and the Dancing Lessons, where Damaril becomes Thorin’s dancing tutor and is attracted to him.  And I have written two stories about Dis, the first (The Kings and Lady Dis) describing how she visits Erebor to ‘punish’ Thorin for the loss of her sons and the second (The Kings, Dwalin and Dis) telling how she and Dwalin come together in their loneliness and start thinking of a marriage.  The episode where Bilbo’s attempt to seduce Thorin is mentioned (plus revelations about other lovers) can be found in The Kings Tell It Like It Was._

_I somehow don’t think that Dwalin will ever get married, however: he’ll be Thorin’s man to the last._

 

 


End file.
